Success
by Queenafoster
Summary: There are many ways to measure success...
1. Chapter 1

Success  
By Queena Foster

Nick ran up from the galley and snagged the ringing phone. "Riptide Detective Agency."

"Good evening, Nicholas. How are you?"

Nick blinked in surprise. Only one person called him Nicholas on a regular basis. "I'm good, Mrs. A; how are you?"

"Fine, thank you. Is my son available?"

"Yeah, sure. We were just finishing the dishes." He covered the receiver with his palm and stood still, wondering. Cody's mother didn't just call on a whim. "Hey, Cody. Phone."

"Coming."

In seconds, Cody hopped up the stairs and held out his hand for the phone. Nick just looked at him, trying to hide his concern.

"Nick?" Cody stood there expectantly, eyeing Nick with obvious confusion. "The phone?"

Nick couldn't help his reluctance, and Cody finally just took receiver.

"Hello." In half a second, Nick watched the change come over his partner. He didn't personally see it very often as Cody usually went east to visit his mother, but as soon as Cody recognized the voice, the weight of unmet expectations shadowed his eyes, dropped his chin just a bit, and brought his shoulders a shade lower.

"That's great…No, that'll be fine; I'll pick you up…Are you sure?" Cody's voice sounded enthusiastic even if his body language did not reflect the same.

Nick waited with bated breath, wondering what was going on. Sounded like she was coming west this time.

"Of course, no problem. I'll see you then."

Cody pensively hung up the phone and stood silently, staring at the handset. Nick waited, a little impatient in his concern, but unwilling to push into this most private problem, one of the things Cody had never been able to completely resolve.

Finally, Cody glanced up at him. "Well, she's in town. Got in today. She's coming for dinner tomorrow night."

"Kind of sudden."

Cody's eyes betrayed a little uneasiness. "Yeah." Like he wasn't sure of her motives either. And it was almost certain that she did have some sort of plan in mind—no doubt one that involved her son.

Nick fingered the corner of the table, wanting to give Cody a message of support, but not knowing what to say…never knowing what to say. After debating with himself for a few seconds, he glanced up and found Cody looking back at him in defeat.

"I'm gonna take a walk, okay?"

"You want some company?" Nick wanted to be available if...

Cody sighed, distracted and resigned. "No, I'm good. See ya later."

Nick watched the bowed shoulders as they headed up to the wheel house. He tried to rub the tension from his neck, wishing he knew how to make this better. But then, Nick didn't have many family expectations to live up to…or down to depending on who might've had the expectations. His father was long gone and his mother and grandmother long dead. His only blood relatives were a few distant cousins scattered across the country that he heard from maybe a couple of times a year. For all intents and purposes, Cody and Murray were his real family.

After Nick's mother passed away and he'd come to live with his grandmother in California, it only took getting in trouble one time for him to find out what she expected: that he become a Man of Honor and Integrity, that he take care of his family, and that he fully apply himself to achieving his goals. Those expectations took a while to become ingrained in a young Nick, but by the time he went into the army, he understood their value and resolved to follow his grandmother's path.

_Nick had been in country a couple of months when he got orders to fly backup on a mission to extract a couple of squads in I Corps. Nick's job was to fly cover for the two choppers on pickup duty. _

_He had the radio tuned to the lead chopper's frequency and flew in formation with the other birds. From the sound of it, the LZ was hot and getting worse. He called back to the door gunners to be ready as they got closer to the coordinates._

_Sure enough, once the other two Hueys descended, the jungle spewed out men in a running firefight. Nick swung his chopper in pass after pass, allowing the gunners to lay down covering fire in the surrounding foliage. His copilot kept an eye on the main birds and elbowed Nick when they lifted off. Nick was ordered to return to base. By then, his chopper was taking fire too, so it was time to vamoose. _

_As he pulled on the stick to get the hay out of Dodge, he heard yelling over the radio. Sounded like the ground unit's colonel was ordering the pilots to go back and get the rest of his men while the flight leader was yelling just as loud that it was too hot and a lost cause. Nick swung back around the LZ and saw a few more men sprinting out of the jungle in a fighting retreat, waving their arms._

_Nick flashed on his grandmother who'd died just a few months earlier. A Man of Honor and Integrity. Take care of his family. An honorable man would not leave good men—fellow soldiers—to die if he could help it, so Nick dropped the chopper into the LZ as his copilot squawked about their orders. Nick ignored him and watched the soldiers run toward the hold as enemy fire pelted his bird._

"_Come on, come on! Let's go!"_

_The windscreen splintered, and Nick flinched as a few shards of glass struck his face. But the chopper was thumping with men bounding through the open hatch, and finally, Nick heard from the gunner that the last man was aboard. Then they were off the ground with rounds hitting the bottom of his Huey._

_When Nick landed at the base, he heard the soldiers being greeted by their squad mates from the main choppers. He was starting the post-flight checklist when he got yanked out of the cabin by his copilot who then proceeded to deck him. Nick came up ready to give as good as he got, but their captain showed up and ordered them both to follow him. _

_Once they arrived at the chopper CP, he got reamed by his copilot, the flight leader, his captain, and his major for disobeying orders and risking the chopper and crew. Nick briefly wondered if his grandmother's Man of Honor and Integrity was required to stand still and get yelled at and finally decided to hell with it. When he left, he was on report for insubordination, but he considered it a minor victory that he hadn't assaulted a superior officer. Of course, he was also grounded but that wasn't likely to hold as the need for pilots was too great. As soon as they found another copilot willing to go up with him, he'd be right back in the saddle._

_That night found him pounding beers in a bar outside the base gate, thinking about his grandmother's other expectations: that Nick fully apply himself to achieving whatever goal he established and that he take care of his family. When he first arrived in Southeast Asia, his aim was to do the job he was given—fly choppers—to the best of his ability. And he figured the Army was his family now. Tough to keep those promises when he was grounded for trying to do the honorable thing. Unable to resolve the problem—and having nowhere to fly the following day anyhow—he decided to get hammered, and he was seriously working toward that goal. _

"_I been looking for you."_

_Nick felt the hand on his arm and jumped up ready to hit whoever was on the other end. He was still angry at having to defend himself for doing what he considered job number one._

_But the ground pounder lieutenant backed off and raised his hands in surrender. "Hey, sorry. Didn't mean to startle you."_

_Nick eyed him suspiciously. "What do you want?"_

"_Just to say thanks. For coming back for us."_

_Nick let out a short breath and glanced around the room, but all seemed relatively quiet. Maybe the guy was on the level. _

_The other lieutenant narrowed his eyes as he surveyed Nick. "Buy ya a beer?"_

_Nick shook his head slightly at his overblown reaction. "Sure." He straddled the stool again, and the guy sat down beside him, motioning the bartender for two more._

"_You always this jumpy?"_

_Nick finished off the last beer he'd been working on and managed a fake smile. "Just a real bad day."_

"_Yeah? Mine was pretty decent. I coulda been killed or captured, but this crazy pilot disobeyed orders and came back to pick up me and a few of my men. A couple of my guys were hurt, but everybody came home in one piece. We got the intel we needed, so the mission was accomplished. My colonel's happy. I tell ya, I never really liked helicopters much, but that chopper turning around was about the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. And did I mention that I'm still breathing? Kinda feel like I owe that pilot, but I'm not sure how to repay him."_

_Nick fought a grin and looked away so the guy wouldn't see. "Well, he'd probably say it was no big deal. Just doing his job and all that crap."_

"_Well, since the other pilots flew off and left us, seems like it __**was**__ kind of a big deal. Sure is from where I'm standing anyway."_

"_Yeah? Well, like you said, the guy must be crazy."_

"_Lucky for me." He raised his hand to the bartender again._

_Nick finally let a real smile break through and turned to his companion as their next round arrived._

_The lieutenant stuck out his hand. "Cody Allen. Thanks."_

"_Nick Ryder."_

"_Yeah, I asked around about you. I've been trying to find you ever since we landed. I heard you caught hell for coming back for us. I owe ya."_

"_Nah. All part of the service."_

"_Seems above and beyond. Especially since you got in trouble for it."_

"_If it wasn't this, it would've been something else." Nick studied the empty bottles lined up in front of him, still trying to get over being reprimanded for doing the job he was sent to do. "Just couldn't leave you guys, man. Couldn't live with myself if I'da done that."_

"_And maybe I wouldn't be alive at all." Allen took a long pull on his beer. And ordered another round._

_Nick was thoroughly buzzed when the bar closed. The two of them stood just inside the base gate, and Nick leaned against a post, waiting for the planet to tilt in the right direction. Hard enough getting around in the dark even when the ground held steady._

"_Where are your quarters?"_

_Nick waved in the general direction, but he wasn't going back there tonight. If he caught sight of McNally, he'd return the punch from this afternoon. And he didn't need a charge of fighting to add to the insubordination. Better to just avoid the asshole entirely and bed down in one of the choppers._

"_Come on, I'll walk you over."_

"_Nah, you go on, I'm good. I'll see ya sometime, okay?"_

"_No way I'm leaving you like this, man. You can't even stand up straight. If you fall and give yourself a concussion, who'll disobey orders and come back for me? Come on, lead the way."_

_Nick shook his head, "Nah—"_

"_Hey, look, my tent's not far. Why don't you just bunk in with me tonight?"_

_Nick looked at the guy, trying to figure his angle. Nick must be drunker than he thought because he couldn't come up with anything that seemed likely. What motive would Allen have for being such a good guy unless he really was just trying to thank the pilot who'd pulled him out of a tight spot? And he just seemed so…well…__**nice**__. Easy going. He and Nick had tossed stories back and forth all night, like they'd been buddies for years._

_And since Nick didn't have any better offers or ideas, he went along and dropped into the extra rack in Cody Allen's hooch, asleep almost before he lay down. _

Nick shook his head slightly to get out of the past. He'd never shared space with the other pilots again. A couple of days later, Lieutenant Nick Ryder was transferred to Cody's unit at the request of Colonel Doug 'Pitbull' Johnson. And under Johnson, Nick did whatever the colonel wanted—either in the air flying a helicopter or on the ground with Cody and the rest of the guys. Weird assignment for a chopper pilot, but the best thing that ever happened to Nick. His grandmother's simple, straightforward expectations had changed his life and led him to the best friend on Earth.

Cody Allen turned out to be a rich man's son, a college dropout with roots back east and in southern California. But he was tough and loyal and funny. More, he and Nick had the same values despite coming from different worlds; he was a Man of Honor and Integrity and more than repaid Nick for something he never considered debt worthy anyway. And in 'Nam, a guy like that was worth keeping around even if they had almost nothing in common on the surface.

Of course, Over There, lots of stuff was just so much superficial crap. Where you were from, the color of your skin, who your parents were, how much money and education you had…none of that mattered in the jungle. Finding someone you trusted to watch your back was worth more than gold. And in Cody Allen, Nick Ryder hit the jackpot. Fifteen years later, there was still no one he trusted more.

But back in The World, all that superficial crap came back to haunt Cody in a way that Nick couldn't help. Cody's wealthy mother had always had plans for her only son that included a flashy career, marrying the right girl, making lots of money, and becoming a _somebody_ in her snotty society—none of which mattered to Cody. Thus, the conflict. And as Cody hated conflict in general and in particular with people he cared about, it often seemed to Nick that his friend was being stretched too thin between the person he really was and the person his mother wanted him to be.

And on the outside was Nick, watching Cody tear himself apart. His friend couldn't be who his mother wanted, but it didn't stop him from feeling guilty as a result. Nick felt like he did after they ran into Janet in San Francisco. There was no way to protect Cody from his mother, and all Nick could do was stand on the sidelines—helpless—and watch.


	2. Chapter 2

"We're never gonna make it." Cody gripped the steering wheel in frustration. "I can't believe this. Today of all days!"

"It's gonna be fine, man. Just drop me and Boz at the Pier and go pick up your mom. We'll take care of everything."

"Come on, Nick, it's hopeless. We're not gonna make it."

"It's not hopeless—"

"Yeah, Cody, have a little faith." Murray was leaning forward between the seats.

"I'm supposed to pick her up at 6:45 on the dot! Murray, you've only talked to my mother on the phone—you just don't know her that well; she's a stickler about punctuality. It's—what time is it, Nick?"

"Ya got ten minutes. Look, just drop us at the gate and go pick her up. And quit worrying; we got this."

Cody blew out a deep breath of frustration as his partners climbed out of the Jimmy. As he drove off toward the hotel, he glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Murray helping Nick hobble down the companionway. Of all the days for this to happen. Of course, it started out just fine despite the fact that Cody overslept and had to skip breakfast…

_They had a long list of witnesses to interview. A local lady of means had been conned out of fifty grand in what seemed to be a fairly sophisticated sting. She'd been taken to several locations around the area that were all reportedly owned by an investment company. She was introduced to a variety of employees of this fictional company and had been shown paperwork verifying that her investment would be safe. Turned out the whole thing was a scam, and Joanna had recommended the agency when the department's leads dried up._

_The list of witnesses included several people who really did work at the locations their client had been shown as proof of the fake company's viability. It had been a long but productive day when they went to see the last witness midway through the afternoon._

_The first thing that rang suspicious was that the address provided by the police turned out to belong to someone else entirely. Assuming that it had been written or transcribed incorrectly, they called the man's place of employment where, sure enough, they got a completely different address. The second residence turned out to be a cheap, road-side motel badly in need of repair and a good cleaning. Odd that a supposedly established resident lived in such a place, but Boz confirmed the address on his portable computer. Skepticism was evident in all three members of the Riptide Agency as they climbed the outdoor stairs to the third floor._

_Their suspicions firmed up when the witness answered the door but didn't invite them inside. And his answers, while reasonable on the surface, sounded practiced and slick and didn't actually give them any worthwhile information._

_Finally, the witness agreed to accompany them to his work place. He went back in his room to change clothes while they waited…until Murray caught a glimpse of the guy sneaking out of a room three doors down. At that point, a chase ensued through all three floors of the motel that included an attempted flying tackle by Nick, resulting in a graceless tumble down the second floor stairs to the concrete parking lot below. He ended up with a twisted ankle and wrist and a long scrape on his forearm as Cody finally collared their witness-turned-suspect._

_When Joanna and her officers arrived, they found the suspect had a large portion of their client's money in his room which turned out to connect to several rooms on either side. The absent occupants of those rooms were also apparently part the ring and were out setting up their next mark. Joanna was smiling in anticipation as she planned the stakeout to catch the rest of the network. But all of this took time to figure out, and the cops had to get statements from Cody, Nick, and Murray to start the necessary legal processes which would hopefully result in court convictions. _

_Cody felt torn by the day's priorities. First was the client who had hired them to recover her money and secure the arrest of the perpetrators. Well under way, but still a work in progress. _

_Second was Nick falling down the stairs. It didn't seem serious, but he was notorious for downplaying injuries. His first words were always, 'It's just a scratch.' Maybe, maybe not, but Cody hadn't had a chance to get a look himself. One of the cops handed over a first aid kit, and Nick had at least made a token effort to clean and bandage the scrape. Still…_

_And last, lurking in the background, was tonight's dinner with Cody's mother. She wasn't a person who liked surprises, so the fact that she had shown up out of the blue seemed ominous. Cody almost dreaded finding out what she had in mind this time._

_After her call last night, he'd spent several hours lost in thought, walking the beach and the pier, eventually ending up at the helipad. He'd just been drifting aimlessly, wondering what motivated his mother's visit, and he suddenly realized that he'd just walked under the arch heralding Mimi's home. Nick always seemed to get such comfort from the old chopper; at that point, Cody was desperate. "Maybe I need another woman's opinion. What's my mother doing out here?" When Cody realized he'd just asked for advice from an ugly pink rustbucket, he decided it was time to go back to the boat. Which was dark, and he belatedly noticed that it was several hours past midnight._

And now, Cody was watching his rearview mirror as his partners scrambled to help him entertain his mother. Who _must_ have had a reason for coming to California in the first place.

Beatrice Allen was waiting in the lobby of her hotel. As Cody walked up, her smile was small but genuine. "I was afraid you'd be late."

Cody leaned down to kiss her cheek and wrap her in his arms. "No, you've been on my mind all day." Which was true even if it wasn't in a way she'd probably appreciate.

"You look good, son."

"You look beautiful."

"I'm reminded of your father when you start flattering me."

Cody didn't know how to respond appropriately to that, so he just smiled and offered her his arm. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yes. Shall we?"

He assisted her into the Jimmy and noted her barely hidden displeasure that she was in a _truck_. He wondered briefly if she'd ever ridden in one but decided it wasn't worth asking as she didn't comment. Instead, after a quick update on old friends he'd not seen in a while, he pointed out buildings of interest that had gone up or changed since her last visit a few years back. She murmured and nodded appropriately and asked about some of the places she remembered from when they'd lived in the Los Angeles area decades ago.

By that time, they were back at the boat, and Cody felt his anxiety level ratchet up. A quick check, and it was almost seven. Nick and Murray had had only twenty minutes to get the boat and dinner ready for his mother. Cody should have insisted they go out.

He helped his mother climb aboard the boat and pretended not to see her expression of faint disapproval. She'd never appreciated his love for the sea. Cody'd always had the impression that she'd disapproved of his grandfather as well. As they crossed the afterdeck, Murray came out of the wheelhouse.

"Oh, good, you're here!"

Cody grinned, knowing he could always count on Boz being gracious and exuberant. "Mom, this is Murray Bozinsky; Murray, I'd like to introduce my mother, Beatrice Allen."

"Mrs. Allen, it's a great pleasure to finally meet you in person."

"Please call me Beatrice."

"And you must call me Murray." He took her hand and gallantly helped her up to the wheelhouse. "Welcome aboard. What a lovely surprise that you could come visit Cody this time."

"I do wish he lived closer and could come see me more than once a year. One would think, being self-employed, that a son could manage that."

Cody bit his lip and resolved not to answer.

Boz jumped in anyway. "Yes, well, you know how it is. We keep pretty busy around here. Let me help you into the salon. The steps are pretty narrow and steep so be careful."

Cody brought up the rear, dreading to see what his partners had come up with in twenty minutes. Please, _please _not frozen pizza or hot dogs.

When he got down the steps, he hoped the surprise didn't show on his face. The room was neat as a pin, and the table was set with a white cloth, four place settings, and candles. Truthfully, they generally kept the boat pretty neat as a small space housing three adults almost required. But Cody was stunned that the salon seemed so elegant in such a small amount of time.

"Well, this looks lovely. And dinner smells wonderful. Thank you, son, for going to so much effort."

Cody was still staring at the table in amazement but quickly pulled his attention back to his mother. "It was no trouble at all."

"Is dinner ready now, or do we have time for a quick tour? I haven't visited since before Murray moved on board."

Boz piped up, "Of course we have time!" He took her hand and escorted her down the aft stairs to Cody and Nick's stateroom. Cody waited till they were out of sight and then ran down to find Nick in the galley.

"How'd you do this?"

Nick was feverishly chopping mushrooms, a large salad bowl in the sink beside him. He was having a little trouble holding the mushrooms steady with his bad wrist, but fortunately, his chopping hand was okay. "Hey, give the dressing a quick shake; I don't want it to separate."

Cody checked the lid on the jar before giving it a jiggle. He eyed the pots on the stove, "Is you're your spaghetti sauce? How did you do this?"

Nick dropped the mushrooms into the salad and ran his hands through the whole thing. "Okay, pour on the dressing."

Cody hurriedly complied, and Nick did another quick toss to mix everything.

"After you went out last night, I tried to think how I could help. I got worried that something might come up today and we'd be pressed for time, so I ran to the grocery and made the sauce last night and stuck it in the fridge. Figured it could be warmed up, add a salad and some garlic bread, and we'd be good."

Cody could hear Boz and his mother coming back into the salon.

"And of course, down here is the galley and my room is on the other side."

Cody stood to one side as Murray assisted his mother down the narrow steps.

Nick turned to her and wiped his hands on the towel slung over one shoulder. Generally in the Riptide Agency, Cody was Mr. Charm with a ready smile and golden dialogue. But bring on any woman over fifty, and Nick was the man. "Hey, Mrs. A, welcome back." He leaned down to kiss her cheek.

"Nicholas, _please_ call me Beatrice. We've been over this."

"Yeah, I know, but I just can't. It's like I got a mental block or something." He shrugged helplessly with a broad smile, completely unapologetic.

She shook her head fondly, "Dinner smells heavenly."

"No promises. Cody just tried to 'help', and once he sticks his nose in, there's no telling what kind of disaster will result."

She smiled indulgently as Cody put in the expected objection. His mother playfully swatted them both on the arm and then followed Murray on through to his cabin. Nick squeezed Cody's shoulder in support before turning to check the oven and the pasta boiling away on the stove.

Cody followed his mother into Murray's room and found her looking at the equipment in amazement. "My goodness. Cody told me you were an expert, but this reminds me of Mission Control at NASA."

Boz nodded thoughtfully, "Well, they have more stations and a larger room, of course, but I do see a comparative similarity. Although I doubt they have anything like this modulating frequency adapter. I developed this myself—"

The Roboz rolled up, and his chest monitor flashed red letters. 'Welcome aboard, Mrs. Allen.'

Her mouth literally dropped open. "Well, thank you, uh…"

"Roboz, Mom. That's the Roboz, Murray's robot."

"Well, it is a _real_ robot, isn't it?" She couldn't pull her eyes away.

Cody didn't think he could remember her just staring like that. At anything. Ever. He grinned in amusement. "Did you think I was talking about a metaphorical robot?"

"Well, I…I really don't know what I thought to be honest."

From the galley, Nick called out, "Hey, dinner's ready. The pasta's almost there."

Cody gestured back toward the galley, "Shall we?"

His mother walked out in front of them, and a suddenly worried-looking Boz caught Cody's eye and mouthed, 'Okay?'

Cody grinned in appreciation for all that his friends were doing to make dinner a success.

"Nicholas, may I take anything up?"

"Just yourself. You're our guest, so go on up and make yourself at home. Cody, take care of your mom instead of standing around, huh?"

Cody grinned, "Yes, _sir_. Mom, why don't we go on up before he really starts cracking the whip."

Cody put his mother at the short side of the corner and then slid in the far end to sit next to her. Murray ran up from behind, placed the salad on the table, and reached into the corner to grab a bottle of wine that Cody had not previously noticed.

Nick hobbled up from the galley with the bread basket and pulled up the rattan chair to sit at the far corner as Murray slid onto the end of the bench seat.

"Nicholas, you're limping. Are you injured?"

He shook his head with an embarrassed grin, "I tripped over a piece of driftwood running on the beach this morning. See, there was this girl…" He let the comment drift off as Cody's mother pursed her lips in a motherly reprimand.

Cody caught Nick's eye and silently thanked him for not mentioning their harried afternoon. He also noticed that Nick had changed clothes; he was now wearing clean, _intact_ jeans and a long sleeved shirt that hid the bandage on his forearm. His partners really had thought of everything.

"Nicholas, the sauce was divine. What's your secret?"

"Come on, Mrs. A. You don't ask the cook for his secrets. Or recipes. Or something like that. I know there's supposed to be some kind of rule."

"He doesn't have a recipe anyway, Mom."

"Well, dinner was excellent. I can't recall a better sauce—even when we were in Italy."

Nick beamed, "My grandmother would appreciate that. She didn't have a recipe either, but she taught me how to make it. She always said that once you learn the basics and how things come together, the rest is mostly instinct and tasting as you go. It's almost never the same twice. And that's pretty much how I cook."

Dinner had been a huge success. His mother was impressed with the meal—hell, Cody was impressed considering the time crunch, and the conversation was relaxed and enjoyable. His mother mentioned the changes in the area that she and Cody had seen on the drive over, and that led to the case they handled for Helen Howell and the revelation that she owned a vast portion of King Harbor. Cody's mother had always been impressed by real estate and finding out that the famous film star of the '30s and '40s was one of their clients seemed to delight her. That and the fact that they still saw and talked to Helen pretty often. When Murray mentioned off hand that they'd also worked for Baxter Bernard and were on a first name basis with the famous inventor/hermit/tycoon, Cody knew they'd hit a homerun with his mother.

Back in the lobby of her hotel, she looked at him with a discerning eye. "Cody, would you be available for breakfast? There's something I need to discuss with you."

Finally.

"We can talk now."

"No, I'd prefer to wait until morning."

Cody's anxiety had been allayed by the successful dinner, but it roared back full strength. "Of course. What time?"

"Nine?"

"Fine. I'll meet you here in the lobby?"

"Excellent. Thank your friends again for a delightful dinner. I'll see you tomorrow."

Cody watched until she was on the elevator, wondering again what she had in mind. Must be big.

Back on the boat, he found his partners cleaning up the galley. The salon was back to its normal state, and the dishes were almost done. "Guys, that was great. She was really impressed. Thanks for everything."

Boz shrugged, "It was Nick really. He just told me what to do."

Cody offered a grin of gratitude, but Nick wasn't satisfied. "Any idea why she's really here?"

"No, but I'm meeting her for breakfast. She said she has something to discuss."

Murray's brows drew down in concern, and Nick bit his lip pensively. "Another round of _This is no way to live, you're wasting your life_?

Cody rubbed his temples; he was getting a headache. "Yeah, probably. But I bet she's got a new angle or she wouldn't have flown out here. Every time she does this, it just gets harder. We never see each other anymore without her trying to get me to move back East or finish school or go to work for one of Dad's old buddies. One of these days, I'm just gonna…"

Nick squeezed his shoulder, just like before dinner. "No, you're not. She's your mom; she loves you. And you love her. She can't help it that her idea of the good life isn't the same as yours."

Cody looked at his friends morosely. He knew Nick was right, but it didn't make the coming discussion any easier.


	3. Chapter 3

Just before nine o'clock, Cody strolled into the lobby of the hotel to find his mother waiting for him. As usual. Even when he was early, he was late. Just another way he'd failed as a son. "How'd you sleep?"

"Oh bother. It's not my bed, and I still have a little jet lag, so I rather expected to have trouble sleeping. I _was_ somewhat surprised by how preoccupied I was, though."

"Something bothering you?"

"In a good way." She glanced around the lobby. "Would you like to eat here or is there somewhere else you'd prefer to go?"

"Here's fine." He led her across the room to the hotel restaurant and requested a table.

After they were seated and had placed their orders, he found himself the object of her close inspection.

It was time.

"What is it, Mom?"

"You look happy, son. Much more so than when you come to visit me. Seeing you at dinner last night, so relaxed and content, it pleased me."

"Well, this is home. When I go East, I'm kind of out of my element."

"Coming to see me is such a burden?"

"It's not that. You know I was never really happy there." He didn't mention that her unmet expectations were like an anchor around his neck, making him feel like a bad son whenever he went to visit.

"Yes, I understand that, but it really couldn't be avoided with your father's job. And while I knew you missed California, you seemed to adjust when we moved; you made friends and did well in school. When you came back from Vietnam, I expected you to return to our life there. I hoped that fighting in that horrid war would get that girl out of your system. I was terribly disappointed when you went back to the army to become an MP. It was such a waste of your potential."

"Janet was really just the final straw, Mom. I didn't understand it at the time, but I wasn't happy. I didn't enjoy school, didn't really like my classes. Maybe Dad was happy with his life, but I knew when I came home that I didn't want to be a lawyer. I'm more of a 'hands-on' kind of guy."

She nodded slightly, "So you've told me many times, and I see that now. It's taken me a while, but I've finally come around to see your point of view."

Cody sat in disbelief, not sure how to respond. Did that mean that she was finally going to give up on her quest to change him and his life? Fortunately, their food arrived, giving him an opportune break in the conversation.

Once the waitress left and they'd taken a few bites, his mother took a sip of water. "Now, to what I came out here to discuss with you."

Cody wiped his mouth and sat back to hear what she had to say. With his nerves stretched taut, he wasn't very hungry anyway, and his mother wasn't the only one who'd had a long, sleepless night.

"I must confess that I came to talk you into moving back East. I had a plan that seemed full proof, and I believed you would not be able to refuse."

"Mom, we've had this discussion in the past—"

"On multiple occasions; I do recall. I had much better incentives this time, but…I've changed my mind."

Cody began to hope he'd finally gotten through to her.

"Having dinner with you last night was enlightening."

He smiled a little.

"All those gizmos in Murray's room. And that robot. The world has truly changed."

"Murray's always coming up with something new and amazing. His mind goes a million miles a minute."

"Conversation with him can be _exhausting_."

Cody snorted, "Try living with him twenty-four seven."

"I can see that it would be trying. But living in such close quarters would be difficult for _any_ two people, much less three."

"We make it work. You gotta remember, we were all in the army. We kind of got used to it."

"But you're not soldiers any longer. You could make other arrangements that are more comfortable."

"I suppose." Cody decided not to commit himself to this thread of conversation. It felt like she was leading him to one of her inescapable, logical conclusions that he would, no doubt, absolutely refuse. And come off sounding like a jerk in the process.

"I enjoyed hearing about your cases last night. You don't really talk about them when you come to visit me. Or when we speak on the phone."

"I guess I'd rather hear about what's going on with you."

"You're straying back to flattery, son."

He grinned, "Only flattery if it's not true."

She smiled at him skeptically. "Never mind. Hearing about those cases rather inspired me. That and seeing you so happy."

Cody was a little intrigued.

"As I said, I came out here to convince you to come home with me, but now I see that California is where you really belong. You could never be so happy back East. Not like you were last night. And a mother wants her son to be happy."

"Good—"

"I'm not done." She took a deep breath. "I've thought about this most of the night, and here's what I've decided: If you're going to stay here and become a success, you need to increase the profile of your agency. With clients the caliber of Helen Howell and Baxter Bernard, people should be beating down your doors. But then, you have no doors. You need to move the agency into a real office. An office inspires confidence and implies respectability. Right now, you meet potential clients on your boat, in the middle of very cramped living quarters that are frankly too small to house three adults. It's no wonder to me that your business is still struggling."

Cody bit his lip to keep from saying anything he would regret later. Of course, she didn't give him time to get in a word anyway.

"You should phone all of your old clients—especially ones like Helen Howell and Baxter Bernard that have resources and know people. Discuss with them if they might have any more business you can assist with. Or if they know anyone who might need your services."

"That's not how we work, Mom."

"Well, it should be. That's how a successful business is built. On good work, referrals, and word of mouth."

"Mom, we're doing all right, but we can't afford to lease office space. And we don't really—"

"I'll front you the money."

Cody was stunned, "What?"

"I'm offering to be an investor. I want you to hire a business consultant, someone with expertise in this area and type of business. He'll get you set up with appropriate space, advise you on hiring help, assist with advertising, and so forth."

Cody almost swallowed his tongue, "Hiring help?"

"I rather like the name _Allen Private Investigations and Security._ What do you think?"

"Mom, what are you talking about?"

"Cody, the Riptide Detective Agency looks and sounds like a nickel and dime operation, and any potential client with half a brain will think exactly that and take their business to a more professional looking agency. You just need to improve the image you project to become a major player."

"Mom—"

"You've somehow managed to attract some impressive clients, so you're clearly quite good at this type of work. You only need a better business plan for it to take off and finally make some money. To be a _real_ success."

"Just let me say—"

"The name change is vital. I really think having one key person up front will be important. With your looks and personal charm, you're the natural choice—I'm sure the consultant will agree with me. Murray and his computers could factor into the advertising as I am aware that he has some name recognition in his field. Now, Nicholas…does he still fly that horrid pink monstrosity? As an agency asset, I'm sure the consultant will insist on a new paint job. Something _not_ pastel with eyes and a mouth. A serious agency should have a serious helicopter. Black or dark gray, I would think."

"Mom, the Mimi—"

"I won't even discuss the name, son; that goes without saying. Now, Cody, as I said, I'm willing to front you the money for this, but in exchange, I must insist that the partnership paperwork be adjusted."

Cody just stared at her for a minute, but it seemed she finally expected a response. All he could come up with was, "What paperwork?"

"The agency partnership contract, of course."

Cody felt like he'd been thrown out in open water. With sharks. "We don't have a partnership contract."

His mother seemed to be waiting for the punch line. He shrugged slightly, not knowing else what to say.

She blinked several times, "There's no legal documentation that the three of you are partners in the agency?"

Cody felt the dread climbing up his throat. "No, but—"

She stared at him like she couldn't believe her senses. "Three years of pre-law and this is how you set up your business? If your father were still alive, he'd demand his money back from the school. Son, where was your brain when you started all this?" She took a deep breath and shook her head in resignation. "Of course, I suppose I should be grateful; it will make all these changes that much simpler. We can call my west coast attorney when we get upstairs. Since there's no binding partnership, he can write the incorporation language however we choose at this point."

"Wait, what you're talking about is—"

"For that matter, you could simply start from scratch with all new employees. I know that Murray has some name recognition, but he is rather…well, personally, he's a bit awkward—even you must acknowledge that. While I'm sure he's quite talented, our business consultant could research computer investigations and come up with any equipment you need and hire a qualified person who could fill Murray's role for far less money, I'm sure.

"And I know that Nicholas is a very good pilot, but—well, he'd _have_ to be to make _that_ helicopter fly on a regular basis. But now that I consider it, I think hiring a pilot and helicopter as needed would be more cost effective. While he's a lovely boy and I am _quite_ fond of him, I'm sure he'll understand that you going out on your own isn't personal; this is strictly business."

Cody stared at his uneaten food, gripping the silverware. The enormity of what his mother was suggesting made him nauseated. He looked over at her as she smiled back in pleasure and excitement.

"Shall we go upstairs and start making phone calls? Oh, you didn't eat very much, dear."

"Mom—"

"Perhaps you'd like to think about it. I did rather spring this on you, didn't I?"

"I don't have to think about it."

"Well, good. Let's go up and get started."

"No, Mom."

"No? To what part? You don't like the name? Well, it was only a suggestion."

"Mom—"

"That's not it at all, is it? It's your friends. Cody, if you want to hire them on, then of course you should. Or if you want to give them a share of the new agency, then I suppose I can accept that, but, as the principle investor, I must insist that you have controlling interest."

"Mom! Listen to me. For once, just stop with the plans and listen. I appreciate your suggestions and I know you love me, but I don't want any of that."

"But—"

"Mom! Just _listen_." Cody took a deep breath and grasped his mother's hand. There were so many things she didn't know, didn't understand about the three of them and how they worked. Maybe some details about another case would make it clear. "I didn't tell you this before, but last year, we actually sold the agency."

She blinked and stared at him. "I don't understand; how could you sell it and still own it?"

"I got it in my head that we should go corporate. That I needed a real career_._ You would have been so proud." He bit his lip at the bitter taste in his throat, remembering that some of his ideas about the agency's image were pretty close to his mother's suggestions. "The agency was in serious trouble financially, and Murray and I didn't see any other way out. We had an offer on the table—a _good_ offer—from Tricor Security, one of the biggest security firms in the country. Not just Southern California or even the west coast, but one of the biggest in the country. _Their_ building had like twenty stories. They offered to buy our agency and employ the three of us as investigators."

Cody fought to keep his voice steady. "But Nick said 'No way.' He was difficult and uncooperative, and it was all we could do to get him to discuss the problem rationally. He absolutely refused to address our financial issues with any degree of logic. And let me tell you, living on a boat the size of the Riptide—heck, sharing a cabin—with someone who won't discuss the giant elephant in the room, it's pretty uncomfortable. That week before we sold the business was one of the longest of my life. We argued _every_ day."

He glanced at his mother and found she was actually listening to him, very intently following his tale. But then, it involved money, so of course she was listening.

"Finally, Nick threw in the towel."

"He agreed to sell?"

Cody felt his lips twist in remorse. "No, he agreed that it was a good offer and would solve our problems. But he refused to be part of it. He suspected that those Tricor guys were playing us for some reason and said he couldn't go along with the line of hogwash they were shoveling.

"And he was right. They _were_ a bunch of crooks; they were blackmailing their clients and stealing from them. It turned out that we had the proof against them in our case files and didn't even know it. _That's_ why they bought us out—to get that proof. And I almost lost my best friend in the process."

"Cody, you couldn't have known—"

"I almost lost him twice, Mom. See, after a week of arguing, he said he'd move out so that Murray and I could accept the offer and take the fancy jobs; he didn't want to hold us back. And he never once asked for his _share_ of the buyout."

"Cody—"

"I almost lost him a second time when those Tricor bastards…" Cody had to take a deep breath to steady himself, "…_shot_ him. He was trying to help the man that had given us the proof about the company, but they'd already killed him."

"They shot Nicholas? Oh, no."

"Yeah. Murray and I were getting our Tricor orientation—which was a complete sham by the way; those _fancy corporate jobs_ were ridiculous—and, meanwhile, our new bosses almost killed my best friend."

"Oh, Cody."

Cody sat quiet for a moment, hating the memory of that awful time. "So see? I'm pretty _anti-_office building, anti-big firm right now."

She sat quietly, and Cody decided to keep going with another topic. "Ya know, when we were talking about our cases last night, we didn't mention how Helen and Baxter came to be our clients. Helen was a crazy old bag lady as far as I was concerned, but Nick recognized her. He'd seen all her movies and could even quote dialogue with her." Cody grinned, remembering. "He's kind of a sap about that kind of thing.

"Baxter came to us because Murray Bozinsky never met a stranger in his life, and he wants to help _everybody_. The security guy at the Patent Office tried to throw out a homeless guy that everybody around here knew as 'Larry, the bum,' but Murray objected. And then he sat down and helped this scraggly inventor fix a design problem. That dirty old bum was Baxter Bernard. Mom, my point is I had nothing to do with securing them as clients and would've gone right past them without a second thought.

"And we kind of glossed over some of the not so nice details of their cases. The mobster who stole all of Helen's property? He had her committed to an insane asylum for forty years so he could steal King Harbor from her. He _ruined_ her life for a bunch of real estate.

"And the corporate executives at Baxter Aviation, they had already killed one man and were going to let hundreds or thousands of people die in badly designed helicopters just to make a little more money. They were going to destroy Baxter and his company."

"Cody, I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too, Mom. Almost all of our cases are connected to money in some way or other. And what I've learned over the years, is that I don't really care much about it. That old saying about the love of money being the root of all evil—it's really true. And as long as I have a roof over my head, food on the table, and good friends around me, I'm pretty happy. But I almost lost the most important of those key ingredients when I went corporate and tried to grab the brass ring."

His mother was regarding him thoughtfully.

"Mom, I don't think I've ever just told you flat out, but I wouldn't here without Nick. He saved my life countless times in Vietnam. And he saved my sanity because he kept me from losing myself in the craziness of that place. And since we started the agency, he's kept right on doing it. He and Murray, they take far better care of me than I've ever been able to take care of myself. And I hope they can say the same about me.

"Nick and I started the agency on my suggestion and his agreement. We got licenses, printed up some flyers and business cards, and said we were in business. And after a couple of weeks, I suggested bringing in Murray to give us something extra that our competitors didn't have—a certified computer genius. And surprisingly enough, Murray thought it was a great idea, too. And just like that, we were three partners in a detective agency. We didn't need a partnership contract because…we didn't need it.

"I know you want me to be successful, and I appreciate that you're willing to do all of this. But this plan would only produce the opposite effect—it would make me miserable. Right now, we're doing okay. We've got a good reputation around here for getting the job done right. We take cases and work together, and as long as we make enough to keep the boat and the chopper, computer parts and food on the table, I'm happy. That's all I need. That's all I want."

His mother sat there for a moment, hopefully taking it all in. "What about a wife? Children? Having a family would be hard to fit into such a lackadaisical lifestyle."

Lackadaisical? Well, that told him what she thought of his explanation. He'd done his best, but it was clear that she would never completely get it. Would never get him. "Mom, sometimes I think I've dated half the girls in Southern California; at this point, either they're too screwed up or I am. I'm not sure which."

She sighed, "Well, I thought I'd finally come up with a mutually agreeable solution."

"I'm not a problem that needs to be fixed."

"That is still up for debate, son."

He fought the smile trying to break out. Nick was right; she loved her son, and she would never stop trying to help him have the kind of life she thought was best. "Maybe it is, Mom, but as I'm technically an adult, I think we'll just have to agree to disagree."

She looked at him shrewdly. "I believe I'll adjourn to my chambers and try to figure out another plan of attack."

"You can try, but I'm thinking I might be hopeless."

Her smile was fond. "Never hopeless, not my boy. He's an odd little duck, but he's mine."

He felt his lips twitch. She'd called him 'Little Duck' when he was small. "No ultimatum?"

"Oh, son, don't be crude. That would never work on you."

He laughed out loud, and it felt good when she joined him.

"I don't suppose you have time to take your mother sightseeing?"

He remembered their appointment with Joanna to follow up on the swindle operation from yesterday. "We've got something at one o'clock, but I'm free till then."

"Then let's get that waitress back over here so we can go."

He leaned back in his chair when his mother insisted on paying the check. He wondered briefly how they could be so different. But then, on the surface, he and Nick and Murray didn't have all that much in common either, yet none of them were very effective without the other two. Joanna's experiment the previous year had proven that beyond a doubt.

Most people on the outside probably wondered how and why they were together just as Cody's mother obviously did. And that was okay; they could wonder all they wanted. What was important was what the three of them needed and felt. In the end, that was really all that mattered.

End


End file.
